Bloodsport [Flashback]

[Ferrin]

Day 12, Fall, 490 AV Fingers flexed, curling in before expanding. Inhale, exhale. Steady your breath. Muscles forced themselves to loosen, shivering in defiance. Left foot twisted, toes out, and his right leg bent slightly at the knee. A neutral posture that allowed both quick defense and quick offense. It was a slight variation from that which he'd been taught to take, yet it served him well so far. Blood oozed from the cracks in his knuckles, leaked from a gash on his side and matted the hair on the back of his skull. No matter. Wounds could be felt when the adrenaline wore off. Jaw flexing, Ferrin studied his opponent from a few yards away. Sweat stung his eyes and ran down his brow, and the sandy grounds in which the two battled was mottled with drying blood. His father stood without calm, rage written on features and posture tense with anger. They had not used weapons to train for some time. The potential of severe damage during fights filled with hate was too great. Yet it was not surprising, and it was not undeserved. Ferrin was not as massive in size as his playmates. He was oddly violet in tone, and less bulky. While he had speed and stamina that was unrivaled compared to most his age, he did not have the brute power that was expected of an Akalak. That he was the only son who had survived birth thus far between the couplings of his father and a number of women brought all the more expectation. Expectation Ferrin felt no interest in meeting. The resentment between the seventeen year old and his parent filled the air, thickening it and speeding up hearts. Thoughts ceased and animal instinct overtook as the man who towered before him lunged like a ravenous bull. Ferrin spun on heel, body twisting to the left as the older man rose his right fist in a blow. The momentum was carried through and followed in an arc, and Ferrin was hardly able to duck in time. As he swiveled, his right leg kicked out in attempt to knock his father-- Carrin-- down. Bone collided with bone in a sickening crunch, and the older male stumbled forward. It wasn't as effective as desired. Carrin's right hand caught himself and he rotated, body coiled like a break-dancer preparing for a move. A left fist slammed into the meat of Ferrin's thigh, sending a shot of pain up through his leg. His body shuddered and impulsively he rolled back, quickly rising to feet. Faster, faster. Just fast enough. It was one of those rare moments that the younger male's speed overrode his father's strength, and Ferrin was up first, slamming the heel of his foot hard into Carrin's face before the man could stand fully. Eyes bulged as the elder Akalak's vision blurred, the shock to skull and brain too much. He stood, staggered, and collapsed onto the hard earth, sending up a cloud of dust. Ferrin swallowed air and stared at the heap that was his father. It was his first victory.

[Baku]

Thou has written, and thou has completed, so I award thee the following.... Ferrin: +2 to Hand to Hand Lore: The Pain of Combat, Dueling With Father, Disinterest in Meeting Expectations, Speed vs. Strength, First Victory Over Father Additional Notes: Another teasing glimpse into Ferrin’s past. Nicely done. The Gods wish more.